Fall on the Heath

I went from growing up in a desert where there was a hot arid summer and a cold dry winter with sudden showers to living on an island close to the Arctic where each season was clearly separated from the other but always punctuated by a steadily falling rain. Now, I live in a city close to the Tropic of Cancer in a country that plays host to a variety of seasons in a dozen different places. And it is while sitting here waiting for the rest of my life to happen that I suddenly miss fall.

In my mind the season will forever be associated with the beginning of term. The word also brings with it a vivid memory of  wonderful fiery colors , that strange quality of light that is at once luminous and cozy giving an instant air of intimacy and mystery.

Found this photo online and it captures perfectly the quality of light in a way that I never was able to do.

I love long walks and Hampstead Heath was a walker's paradise. I discovered a peace unlike any other during those long walks alone on the Heath with the chill in the air , the strange hush, the leaves and their colors, my hands dug deep into my coat pockets sometimes seeing my breath in clouds , my desert bred ears stinging deliciously in the cold wind and the splendid colors of the sunset. The sunset was different from the brilliant displays of color of a desert sunset. This one was calmer somehow and closer- a cool observer of brilliant things. Over the next few years as I walked over the Heath through various seasons and in many different types of weather , I decided fall was my favorite time and made sure my fall walks were undertaken alone. 

For some reason, fall is also associated with the intense earthy taste of  warm gooey chocolate ,piles of books,curling up under pink comforters and rain drops on window sills...